


Kiss from a Rose

by Esperata



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bargaining, Daydreaming, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Murder, Season 1 Edward Nygma, Sleeping Beauty - Freeform, comatose Oswald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19118602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Rumours of a sleeping prince being held captive by a witch in the woods don't really interest the GCPD but they have to be seen to dosomething. Hence they send their resident nerd to investigate. Little do they realise what they've set in motion.





	Kiss from a Rose

Gotham was not a place for fairy tales. That being said it certainly had its fair share of myths and urban legends. There were plenty of stories about the creatures to be found in the abandoned corners of the city and what they’d do to the unwary. It was all in all more ‘original Grimm’ than ‘Disney’.

Within the GCPD, these unexplained reports were all passed to their resident nerd – Edward Nygma. No true cop would touch a case based on a hysterical report of walking men of straw but the forensic scientist always relished the opportunity to unravel the mystery with science and logic. It was a win-win. It kept Nygma busy and out of the way while allowing the actual police to focus on proper crimes while still clearing the backlog of weird files.

The newest murmurings were actually building upon prior accusations of a witch living in the unkempt sector of Robinson Park, long overdue redevelopment. Nygma had dismissed the initial claims because nothing indicated to him it was anything other than a poor woman, living alone, possibly supplementing her diet with nature’s bounty. It didn’t catch his interest enough to take a trip out there.

Now however he was reconsidering that opinion. Latest rumours from visitors to that area said there was an imprisoned prince being held by the witch. He rather scoffed at the appellation of prince but nonetheless several different tales had been heard concurring that _somebody_ was prominently displayed in a tangled bed of thorns. There was plenty of disparity between the accounts yet a high enough proportion of overlap for it to be statistically unlikely they were all inventions.

Every version insisted upon the fact that this person was asleep and definitely not dead. Some swore that the chest rose and fell, others to hear or feel the breath of life, and more cited the eyelids with their prominent lashes fluttering as if dreaming, but all agreed they were alive. Given the timeframe over which the sightings were made, Edward reluctantly had to concur it was probable. He knew precisely how long a fresh corpse would last out in the woods and somebody would certainly have noticed the decay by now if that was the case.

As well as that there was the consistency in physical description. Male, slight of build, dark haired, fair skinned and elegantly dressed. It was the little details that convinced Edward the claimants were all describing the same man. Several mentioned the distinctive nose, sharply pointed, with the absurd conclusion he was being turned into a thorn bush himself. Others admitted to seeing an expensive tie pin which they’d snuck forward to steal only to find the brambles seemingly move to block them. Almost all of them remembered the incongruity of an umbrella being entombed beside him in the twining plants.

However no-one could give a good explanation as to why he might be there. The fact he must have crossed the witch seemed their prime conclusion but how was unclear. Some said he was caught stealing her flowers and this was his punishment. Others that it wasn’t his fault but his parents who had renegaded on a deal with her. A few declared she must simply have been making an example of a threat to her domain.

Edward himself could come up with no rational reason why a person should be lying out in the Park at all times – for there seemed no pattern to when he’d been seen. His only possible hypothesis was that this was some kind of performance work but if that was true then it was receiving a distinct lack of publicity. He concluded he would have to collect more data himself and resolved to take a trip there to see this person with his own eyes.

☂

It took Ed quite a while before he finally hit upon the right track to his destination. He’d never had cause to go into Robinson Park before and had rather naively assumed it would be like the stereotypical parks promoted to children. This was nothing like those. It was huge for a start. There were designated pathways signposted for walkers, joggers and cyclists and these were well maintained. However the moment you wandered away from them the landscape changed into something much darker and foreboding.

He no longer wondered at the scarcity of reports of this mystery in the woods. Not many people would be wandering into this threatening landscape without good reason. Briefly he pondered what reasons they’d had before dismissing it as none of his concern. Instead he focused on following the directions that most people had agreed upon. A part of him was worried that he might miss his goal and end up lost within the confusing tangle of trees but that thought dissipated the instant he righted himself after almost tripping on a rotting log and came face to face with the sleeping ‘prince’.

Edward’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t pretend it was merely the breath he’d lost from his near fall. The man was stunning. His pale skin practically shone despite the weak light falling through the canopy. His hair was so dark as to appear to absorb the poor light. Ed almost felt his hand would disappear too if he attempted to run his fingers in the fluffy mess. His eyes dropped to the fine lips, only partly through scientific curiosity. They were very slightly parted and it was clear to see the slow, shallow puffs of air moving them gently.

The crazy idea came to him that perhaps a kiss would wake this sleeping prince and he was about to move forward to try when a rustling drew his attention. Glancing upwards he saw a woman sat in the tree watching him with an interested expression.

“You’re the witch,” he surmised, straightening himself and clearing his fanciful thoughts.

“I’m Ivy,” she responded. “Are you here to rob him too?”

The idea struck Ed that perhaps this man was here as a lure. A test for this woman to use against visitors. If so then he needed to work out what she was looking for before answering anything.

“Who is he?” he asked instead.

“Penguin.”

Her answer momentarily crashed Ed’s thoughts as a spate of criminal files flickered back into his awareness. He’d heard Bullock mention Fish’s former umbrella boy but he’d always described him as a freaky weirdo not an alluring vision of contrasts.

“ _This_ is _Penguin_?” He was aware his mouth had dropped open and he snapped it shut.

Ivy seemed taken aback at his response.

“You know him?” she queried warily.

“Yes. No. Well, not personally but I’ve read so much about him. I work at the GCPD.”

It became immediately apparent this was the wrong thing to say and he cursed himself as she dropped down to stalk forward. He managed to hold his ground as she poked him aggressively in the chest.

“Well cop, you’re not taking him.”

Ed smiled, a reaction which noticeably threw her.

“Oh I’m not a cop,” he explained. “I’m in forensics.”

She stepped back a little, eyeing him dubiously.

“If you’re not a cop, and you’re not here to take him in, what _are_ you doing here?”

“There have been reports of a sleeping prince in the park.” He cast a look again to Penguin, resting undisturbed behind Ivy. “A Sleeping Beauty,” he amended. “The cops can’t be bothered with wild rumours but have to be seen to do something. So they sent me out to investigate.”

“And?” Ivy crossed her arms and glared. “What are you planning on doing now?”

The question flummoxed Ed. He’d been prepared for the rumours to be nothing more than vagrants sleeping rough. He’d been prepared to find nothing or a dead body miraculously preserved. He had not been prepared to find a wanted criminal sleeping softly with a guardian wood nymph. So he did what he usually did when faced with a problem. He asked more questions.

“How is it he’s sleeping so soundly? And _why_?”

“I’m keeping him sedated,” Ivy admitted. “I know a lot about plants and what they can do. I’ve slowed his metabolism and put him into a sort of hibernation.”

“But why?” Ed asked again moving closer to the Penguin, his eyes noting the umbrella that was indeed caught up beside him, the sparkling gem of his tie pin, and the splash of blood. He frowned and instinctively moved forward to investigate. “Is that… a gunshot wound?”

Immediately Ivy’s hand caught his arm and pulled him back so she could stand between them again, glaring defiantly.

“I found him. Bleeding out. Weak and defenceless. I used my skills to stop him dying and I’m keeping him safe in case anyone tries to finish the job.”

Edward turned his disbelieving gaze back onto her.

“You may have stopped him bleeding out then and there but he’s still dying! That wound needs to be treated properly. He’ll need stitches. And he’ll need a working metabolism to heal it.”

“I can prevent it getting infected,” she countered. “And my medicines keep him hydrated and pump the right nutrients into him.”

“For how long? A few months? A year? A hundred? You can’t keep him here indefinitely.”

“So… what? I should just let you take him?” Her voice dripped with scorn. “And how do I know you won’t just hand him into the GCPD? Or kill him yourself? And even if you don’t, that guy is still out there. He’s safe while everyone thinks he’s already dead.”

“What guy?” Ed’s brain worked quickly and latched onto the best plan. He fixed his determined attention onto her and she shifted slightly, uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

“Why?” she countered.

“Because, I will prove to you I mean him no harm. I will bring you the man who tried to kill him. Dead or alive. However you prefer.”

Ivy blinked in surprise at the offer and reassessed him briskly.

“Why would you do that? Wouldn’t that risk your job?”

He scoffed at that.

“Please. Those ignoramuses don’t notice anything I do. I could drag a corpse through there and they wouldn’t spare me a glance.”

She stepped closer, tilting her head slightly and trying to read his expression.

“But why would you risk it for Penguin?”

“Because…” Ed cast a glance back to the man and considered his answer. He could hardly tell her that he was consumed with an almost desperate desire to see him awake. To stare into his eyes and see if they were as beautiful as the rest of him. To woo him and hopefully win a kiss from those elegant lips. “I need a mentor. A guide,” he explained. “In my secret life of murdering people. If I do this for him, he could help me.”

A smile graced Ivy’s face and he wondered if he’d given himself away too much.

“You really have dragged a corpse past them haven’t you?” she smirked.

He grinned back, relieved to have met someone he could share the joke with at last. She didn’t wait for a further response but let out her own sigh of relief.

“Alright,” she agreed. “You bring them here to me – preferably dead – and I’ll let you take Pengy.”

The nickname caught Ed’s attention but he didn’t comment on it. Instead he simply nodded his acknowledgement.

“Now. Who did this to him?”

She met his resolute gaze with one of her own.

“Theo Galavan.”

He nodded at the information although he couldn’t initially see why the philanthropist would have shot Penguin. It was of little consequence though. The man would pay whatever cause he thought he’d had. It was a price Edward was more than willing to pay for this particular reward. The reminder of what was at stake drew his gaze back to the sleeping beauty cradled in thorns and his gaze softened.

Would he be grateful for the retribution carried out on his behalf? Would he accept Edward as his protégé? Could Ed ever hope to capture more of the man’s attention? He knew something of his heart must be showing in his eyes but for once he didn’t care. Ivy clearly wasn’t going to mock him and for that he felt undeniably grateful. 

Seconds passed and he awkwardly realised he should probably be leaving. A raised eyebrow suggested Ivy thought the same but the wry curl of her lips indicated she knew why he hadn’t yet.

“Can I say goodbye?”

Her smile softened and made a go-ahead gesture. Ed licked his lips nervously and approached the suspended figure. For a minute more he simply looked, memorising all the details he could, before reaching out a hand to rest upon his uninjured shoulder.

“You don’t know me yet Mister Penguin. My name’s Edward. Nygma,” he added self-consciously. “I’d like us to be friends.” He bit his lip hesitantly. “So I’m going to find the man he did this to you. And I’m going to gut him like a fish.”

Briefly he once again considered leaning down to press a kiss to his lips but his audience pretty much ruled out that idea. Instead he patted the shoulder somewhat clumsily before turning back to Ivy. She grinned almost conspiratorially.

“I’ll take care of him ‘til you get back,” she promised.

“Thank you.” He took a steadying breath, surprised by how hard his heart was beating. 

Offering her a final brisk smile, he set out to retrace his journey to the GCPD. There was a lot to do if he was going to take down Galavan.

☂

Edward was not by nature a fighter. He didn’t know much about Theo Galavan but he was reasonably certain a direct approach would not work. His success against Tom Daugherty had relied on an element of surprise and Ed saw no reason to change this strategy. All he had to do was lure Galavan somewhere where he could dispatch him quickly and easily before bringing him to Ivy.

The easiest option would be to lure him to Ivy’s corner of the park but Ed was hesitant about doing that. If something went wrong he didn’t want the man to discover where Penguin was hidden.

Penguin. The thought of the sleeping criminal distracted Ed from his plans. He had a manipulative ruthlessness to him that Edward couldn’t help but admire. His ability to deceive and play both sides against the other was impressive, showing a degree of calculated thinking that most people did not possess. He also had a confidence in himself that someone like Ed could only aspire to.

As part of his research Ed had also done a little digging into how Penguin’s path might have crossed recently with Galavan. Ed was theorising that if he hinted knowing what had transpired between them then he might blackmail Galavan into going where he wanted him. What he’d discovered didn’t yet make sense but he was sure he knew now what the connection was.

Not long ago a woman had been discovered in a warehouse, dead from a knife to the back. She’d been identified as Gertrud Kapelput, an immigrant who lived with her son in a small apartment. Very little detective work had turned up the interesting fact that Gertrud Kapelput’s address matched that on record for the Penguin: Oswald Cobblepot.

Ed knew this was the link. It was too much of a coincidence otherwise. How the pieces fit together still eluded him though and without that knowledge he couldn’t use it to leverage Galavan. Instead he’d have to try something else that might capture the man’s interest without alerting him to his peril. There was really only one method Edward was truly confident in to do that.

He typed out a brief note and quickly surveyed his handiwork.

WHAT IS IT THAT IS TOO MUCH FOR ONE, ENOUGH FOR TWO, AND NOTHING AT ALL FOR THREE?

Underneath he gave a location on the docks along with a date and time.

He read it over several times before biting the metaphorical bullet and heading across to deliver it. It didn’t worry him that anyone would ID him as he handed the letter in at the reception desk for the building. One of the curses he’d adapted to was having a forgettable presence. At least it was coming in handy now he reflected. One day, people would know his name but for the time being anonymity was his friend.

Having set the ball rolling he headed back to the GCPD to finish his afternoon shift and purloin the last things he needed for his plan.

Getting a gun was ridiculously easy. So many cops simply left their sidearms lying on their desk or tucked in a drawer. Edward could literally take his pick and simply choose who he wanted to frame. It gave him a buzz to watch the stupid people continuing their day completely unaware of what was happening right under their noses. He almost wanted to yell it at them. Make them realise how mind-numbingly incompetent they were. But he held his tongue. There’d be time enough for that later perhaps. For now he needed to stay focused.

Which was hard to do with the boring questions passed to him by cops who simply couldn’t be bothered to use their brains at all. Instead he found himself daydreaming about his return to Penguin later.

In his mind’s eye he envisaged stepping into Ivy’s glade with the body of Galavan slung across his shoulder to be dropped triumphantly at her feet. He’d be dressed more impressively than he had been before as well, in his finest suit. It was hardly worn since he’d bought it for a St Patrick’s day party to which he’d been reluctantly invited and which he’d slunk out of early. It would be the perfect thing for a woodland rendezvous though.

Ivy would be awed by his achievement and would demurely relinquish his promised reward, bowing out from the scene with quiet grace. Alone at last, Edward would step up to the sleeping form haunting his mind and bend down to greet his awakening with a chaste kiss. At which point those mysterious eyes would finally open to take in his saviour. Ed couldn’t help but envisage them sparkling blue and green like icebergs refracting sunlight.

And then Penguin would smile and raise his arms, silently offering himself to Edward. It would be easy to lift the smaller man from his bed of thorns and support him within a protective embrace. It would be necessary to hold him close as his muscles would be weakened by inactivity. And only logical after that to walk with him gently, slowly, easing him back into motion with a swaying dance-like step.

Which might develop into a more genuine dance as Penguin regained his strength. He’d look up at Edward with open gratitude and admiration, a smile playing round his lips and shining in his sea water eyes. There would be an invitation in those lips which Ed would be only too happy to accept.

This was about the point where his fantasy would stall and restart because in all honesty he wasn’t sure what to imagine beyond that point. By the time his shift was over though he had a very good grasp on the details leading up to that stage, even if he would admit the cellos were a touch over the top.

Which was why his first priority when getting home was not to eat as he usually did but to take a second shower of the day. His normal hairstyle wouldn’t be suitable at all for the impression he wanted to convey. He could see in his mind’s eye how he wanted to sweep it back but it took a few tries with the limited products he had to create something near the right effect. Eventually he had to conclude it was the best it was going to be and simply get dressed.

The suit at least he was pleased with. It fit him better than anything else he owned and he was sure it would be eye catching even for someone like Penguin to notice.

Thus with no more time to spare he slipped the stolen revolver into the back of his pants and headed off for his showdown at the pier.

☂

Edward had not considered that waiting at a prearranged point to murder someone might turn out to be boring. He’d thought of the thrill of it. The plan falling into place and the satisfaction of success. What he had not considered was having to wait on a gloomy dock with nothing but the caw of seabirds to distract him. The sound of the water lapping against the wooden boards was beginning to lull him into torpor when he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up.

“Finally.”

He inhaled deeply, letting the salty air revive him, and reached for the gun. Then he tucked himself out of sight by a large packing crate and listened. It was entirely possible this wasn’t Galavan at all. He couldn’t rule out either that the man had either not solved his riddle – whether due to ignorance or dismissive complacence – or had sent someone else to scan out the area.

A quick glance showed his plan had worked though. The unmistakeable face of Theo Galavan was looking about the darkening pier for his mysterious summoner.

Edward allowed himself a wide smug smile as he stepped out into his line of sight. The man registered him immediately and began a slow measured approach. Ed waited patiently, knowing his best chance in success lay in a shorter range shot, but it was a double bonus stepping into Galavan’s view as he was. Firstly it kept him off guard, confusing him as he tried to place who he was and why he would be luring him here. Secondly, it gave Ed the thrill of looking him in the eye as he shot him in the head.

Though for that he had to wait, growing more anxious by the second as Galavan slowed and frowned in puzzlement. Then he opened his mouth to speak and Ed knew his time was up. He was self-aware enough to know he could get distracted by a conversational puzzle and that was something he could not afford to happen. So as soon as he saw the lips part to speak he raised his gun and fired.

His aim was not as good as it might be though and he ended up clipping the man’s shoulder.

“Fiddlesticks,” he muttered as Galavan’s look of shock transformed into anger.

If he’d thought about this, he would have expected Galavan to run. He had after all just tried to kill him. However this man was clearly not your typical businessman. Ed just had time to process that he should in fact have expected that, since he’d clashed with and overcome Penguin, before registering the approaching attack.

He managed to fire the gun again, risking drawing attention that a single shot would have avoided, but even though he hit Galavan right in the middle of his torso this time, the man kept running at him. The instincts he normally tried to suppress kicked in and his switchblade was in his hand before he’d even thought about reaching for it. After that Ed let go of his own restraint and metaphorically sat back as his body moved independently of his conscious guidance. The knife stabbed repeatedly until the body fell and then his rational mind interceded to prompt him into slicing across the jugular, just to make absolutely sure he was dead.

It was only when he sat back on his heels, out of breath, that he realised his good suit was covered in blood.

“Damnit,” he muttered.

While he worked to regulate his ragged breathing he swept a hand ineffectually down his jacket, achieving nothing except to smear the stain further. He gave it up for a lost cause and turned his attention to the body before him. Pulling on the arms brought it to a sitting position and Ed then manoeuvred himself so the trunk of the body was aligned with his shoulders. Clutching the arms tightly he then tried to stand.

The dead weight buckled his knees though and he slumped inelegantly under the corpse, feeling blood from the wound now soaking into the back of his jacket as well. He huffed irritably and shimmied himself back, letting the body drop in a heap again. Knelt there in the darkness he considered his options.

Carrying the body was proving harder than he’d expected which left only one viable alternative.

Forcing himself back to his feet he grabbed Galavan’s ankles and began the laborious business of dragging him to his car.

“Should have remembered to park nearer.”

☂

Ivy had clearly heard him coming. Which wasn’t surprising given how far he’d had to drag his offering.

Even abandoning his car as close to the trees as it was possible to get had still left him with an arduous hike over rough terrain. He wished he’d spent a little more time considering this aspect of it rather than daydreaming about Penguin.

As it was he finally staggered into the clearing, sans his ruined jacket which he’d abandoned in the car, and pulling a rather disfigured looking body behind him.

“Is this him?” Ivy asked, tilting her head to survey the corpse. “I thought he’d be better looking.”

“He’s had a rough night,” Ed answered breathlessly, leaning over to rest his hands on his knees as he drew in lungfuls of air.

“Huh,” Ivy agreed dismissively. “Not that it matters. He’ll be fertiliser soon enough.”

Even as she spoke plants were growing up around the body, digging their tendrils into the open wounds. Edward hastily stepped away.

“I’ve upheld my side of the bargain.” He forced his gaze from the writhing vines and caught Ivy’s eyes with determination.

“Yes, alright.” She waved her hands and the thorns pressing round Penguin eased away. “Though you might want to bear in mind the old adage: be careful what you wish for.” With a smug smirk she disappeared back into the darkness of the trees, leaving Ed alone with Penguin.

He held back and watched anxiously as the plants slowly released their patient, presumably also withdrawing any chemicals they had been supplying. Eventually Penguin slipped down out of their clutches and lay limp upon the dirty woodland floor. He remained unresponsive though and Edward grew nervous. Had Ivy been lying to him this whole time? Had she used him in a vendetta she had against Galavan? Wasn’t it more likely a philanthropist would cross an environmentalist than a crime lord?

Hesitantly he approached and knelt down beside the pale figure. This close it was easy to see the unhealthy sheen coating his brow. Ed felt his stomach plummet as the idea occurred to him that he might have just signed the man’s death warrant. If Ivy truly had only been using Penguin as bait then she had no need of him anymore. She’d said her medicines stopped him bleeding out. What if that was rescinded now? 

But Edward wasn’t the sort to give up that easily. Every problem had a solution. Penguin wasn’t dead yet. All Ed had to do was carry him back to his car, drive them back to his apartment and then stitch up his wound if it broke open again. And maybe it had at least partially healed in the time spent here anyway.

He leant across to examine the shoulder that had been shot, tracing his fingers over the site with professional care. To his surprise he found no tear in the skin despite the pool of blood still adhering there. His face lit up with a happy smile.

“It seems Ivy did heal you,” he told the sleeping man, before instinctively leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But don’t worry I-”

He got no further as Penguin suddenly spasmed violently, his arm colliding into Ed with enough force to knock him off balance and onto his ass. Edward’s mouth dropped open in horrified alarm as Penguin continued to writhe.

Just as suddenly as it started though, it stopped and Penguin sat up with a long drawn ragged breath. He looked around him in obvious confusion until his gaze found Edward’s.

Edward was momentarily silenced, both by his surprise at the sudden revival but also by the shimmering green of his irises that so perfectly matched his surroundings.

Then Penguin was in motion.

He grabbed up the umbrella that had fallen alongside him and with a deft twist released a hidden blade from the handle. The next thing Ed felt was that same blade pressing against his throat.

“Who are you?” he spat. “Where’s Galavan?”

Edward swallowed cautiously before answering.

“My name is Edward Nygma. I’m a friend.”

That produced a disbelieving scoff.

“I don’t have friends. Now tell me, _where’s Galavan_?”

Carefully Edward tilted his head.

“Wrapped in Ivy’s vines over there.”

Penguin darted his glance past Ed. His sudden blink told Edward that he’d seen the body currently being digested by plants. Almost immediately though he brought his focus back to the man at the tip of his blade.

“Who did you say you were? And where’s Ivy?”

“Edward. Nygma,” he repeated carefully. “Ivy left you to my care in exchange for the gift of fertiliser.”

Finally Penguin withdrew the knife and sat back on shaky haunches to stare at him.

“You brought Galavan here?”

“Yes.” He rubbed at his throat. “I lured him to the docks, shot him and then dragged him here.”

“But… why would you do that?”

“I told you. In exchange for Ivy releasing you into my care.”

Penguin’s face twisted up.

“So I’m your prisoner now, is that it?”

“Not at all. I was hoping we could be friends.”

He might have just suggested they become Santa’s little helpers given look he was receiving.

“Let me get this straight,” Penguin sat himself back more comfortably, clearly tired despite having just awoken. “You killed a man – someone I assume you had no prior vendetta with – just because you want to be _friends_ with me? You don’t even know me!”

“Yes I do.” Ed smiled at the completely flummoxed look on Penguin’s face. “Do you believe in fate?”

It seemed Penguin couldn’t find the words to reply to that and merely opened his mouth and shut it before shaking his head vaguely.

“Fate has plans for us Mister Penguin.”

A hesitant smile broke free as the crime lord surveyed him.

“You’re an interesting man Mister Nygma.”

“Edward,” Ed insisted, reaching out a hand as he stood to help Penguin up. It was silently accepted and Ed hauled the slighter man upright. Almost immediately though his legs gave way and he began to collapse. Ed automatically wrapped his arms round him to keep him on his feet and found himself face to face with the man of his daydreams.

Penguin wet his lips and Ed found his gaze instinctively drawn downwards.

“Perhaps you should call me Oswald then. If we’re to be friends.”

He snapped his gaze back up to those mesmerizing eyes and smiled.

“I’d like that.”

Oswald nodded briskly before shifting himself in Ed’s hold so they were side by side. Ed took the hint and slowly began them walking.

“I’ll take you back to my apartment,” he began rambling. “I have equipment to check your vitals and I can monitor your return to health.”

“You have a spare bedroom?”

“No,” Ed admitted slowly, realising that this was an issue he hadn’t considered and knowing the solution that automatically presented itself to him would probably not be appreciated.

Oswald cast a glance up at him.

“Well… I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

Ed’s heart stuttered in his chest and he looked down to the bewitching creature currently pressed to his side.

“Yes, I’m sure we shall,” he agreed.


End file.
